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A collaboration over too much coffee.
coffee and pen

26 December, 2005

winter haiku in 5/7/5 and 7/5/7...

...In an SMS conversation...

DI - 25 Nov. (10:12:05)
Pilaspe Haiku

Trombone in morning
sounds from an upper window
sa re ga ma pa
/ / /

RD - 25 Nov. (11:59:28)
Faridabad Haiku

Wrapped against the early dawn
I walk out of dreams
in a winter scented morn
/ / /

DI (11:59:28)

Maharashtran sun
burns in November's late morn
southern edge of north
/ / /

RD (time not noted)

Northern sun caresses one
tempts one to laughter
and flowering in the winter
/ / /

DI (11:40:39)
Thinking of your north
seems like more than happiness
in an unknown land
/ / /

RD (time not noted)
Summer Memory in Winter

Watermelon splits open
heart blood of summer
exquisitely murders heat
/ / /

DI (11:48:05)

In Panvel I've seen
great mounds of watermelons
now they speak to me
/ / /

25 Nov (cont'd)


Traffic snarls on way to work
my day is half done
introspecting this winter


Fairy lights twinkle and mock
celebrating mundaneness
on this average winter eve


See myself in the rear view
am I closer now
or further from self this eve?


Please mute the traffic outside
much noise in my soul
winter calls up memories


SMSing bits of me
meaningless shared verse
to baffle the winter eve


Wearing lipstick by street light
in traffic rush hour
the Delhi season in swing


As I drink down the day's work
wonder where it went
in the early winter mist

26 November (Richa's cont'd)

Tea light gleams through whisky glass
flickers wide awake
in an alcoholic dream

Poesy dies in wnter night
season's cold shoulder
kills the warmth of treasured words

Candlelight induced haiku
outstrips the fair moon
in reality and life

The winter sun has gone to bed
crows circle far above
as it seduces the moon

[I take the "it" to be the sun(?) -d.i.]

Potholes fill up with winter
streetlights warm the road
but miss my heart completely

RD 27 November

Watery sun through my chai
dust motes hibernate
till it's time to come alive

The sliding door sticks again
reluctant to let
November into the house

The orange tabby stretches
glares at the bland sun
but it is only wooden

Sunlight filters through window
Raag Yaman stretches
as my bow draws out the Ni

Thirty thousand marriages
Delhi celebrates
the dawn of winter tonight



Blogger manisha lakhe said...

yaman on violin, travel tales as told by watermelons...wonderful!

this is perhaps the only time i shall protest the new technical thingamabob peter hooked the blog on which offers us just a few lines of a writer's work. work like this deserves the whole page!


31 December, 2005 10:43  

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